


Confirmation Bias

by RandomFlyer



Series: Life Goals [4]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Danny Phantom, Justice League - All Media Types, Superman - All Media Types, The Flash - All Media Types, Young Justice - All Media Types
Genre: Barry Allen does not believe in ghosts, Batman needs damage control, Gen, Life goals, No you can't convince him otherwise, Shazam wants nothing to do with it, Tucker just wants to protect his friend, Why is everyone in this town insane?, that's a robot not a ghost
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-21
Updated: 2020-06-21
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:54:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24834160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RandomFlyer/pseuds/RandomFlyer
Summary: Ghosts don't exist. Barry Allen knew that for a fact and most of the sane world agreed with him. Amity Park, however, didn't seem to get that memo.
Series: Life Goals [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1348294
Comments: 85
Kudos: 740





	Confirmation Bias

**Author's Note:**

> This is part of the Life Goals series. It's not necessary to read the other stories before this one, but it will help.  
> I don't own DC or Danny Phantom.

**Confirmation Bias**

Barry Allen skidded to a halt just before the sign welcoming people to Amity Park “Most Haunted Town in the United States”. He snorted. At least, it meant he was in the right spot. He’d overshot the town on his first try to find it. It was that much in the middle of nowhere, despite the larger than life reputation claimed by George Jakes, one of the college students working part time down in the mail room at Star Labs.

_“I’m telling you,” George said, waving a homemade newsletter in front of Barry’s nose. “Ghost technology is the next big thing! You guys need to get in on it.”_

_“Ghosts aren’t real, George,” Barry sighed with a shake of his head._

_“Oh yeah?” George flipped the newsletter open and stabbed it with his finger. “How do you explain Amity Park?” He shoved the publication into Barry’s hands._

_Barry frowned and took the newsletter, glancing over the title “The Paranormalist” before settling on the front page article. “Amity Park Beats World Haunting Record,” he read the title and then down to the opening line. “Amity Park, Illinois, broke the world record for most verified haunting and ghostly apparition events this past month. How do they defined ‘verified’?” he asked looking up at George with a raised eyebrow._

_George waved a dismissive hand. “They’ve got all sorts of criteria, eye witnesses, documentation, EKG readings or whatever. It’s wicked scientific. I’m telling you, this town is on the cutting edge.”_

_“Right,” Barry said. He handed the newsletter back. George was a nice guy, but a little too gullible for his own good._

_Tucking the newsletter into his back pocket George shrugged. “Hey, if you don’t believe me, you can always go out and take a look for yourself. I’m going on an amateur paranormalist weekend in a few weeks. You’re more than welcome to come with,” he offered, pushing a pair of glasses up the bridge of his nose._

_Barry frowned at the archaic term. “Amateur Paranormalist? Not a ghost hunting weekend?”_

_George grimaced. “Ghost hunting kinda has a reputation, besides most people that call themselves ghost hunters are more interested in hunting and killing ghosts than studying them.” He drew himself up with a grin. “Paranormalists focus on the actual studying rather than hunting. Even if hunting does get involved it’s more catch and release, like with wild animals.”_

_Barry cocked an eyebrow and crossed his arms. “You realize most of the paranormalists in the 19 th century proved the things they studied were hoaxes, right?” _

_“Frederick Bligh Bond* didn’t when he studied ghosts at medieval abbeys, and Harry Price* experienced plenty of hauntings that couldn’t be explained,” George shrugged, “If you’re determined not to believe in something it doesn’t matter how much evidence exists.”_

_“And vice versa,” Barry countered. “What about your classes?”_

_“One of my professors has a wedding to get to, so no Friday class, and Monday is my night class. That’s plenty of time!” George glanced over his shoulder at the elevator as it dinged on their floor. “I gotta get back. Seriously, this is the next big thing and Amity’s going to be at the center of it. That paranormal weekend had a couple more open spots, think about it!” He swung the mail cart around and headed down the hall to the service elevator._

Barry had thought about it. He’d even done a quick search on Amity Park and his curiosity was officially peaked. Which was why he now stood just outside America’s “most haunted town.” There weren’t any ghosts here, of that he was certain. At best, he was expecting to find a town desperate for business. At worse, there was something else going on here that the League would need to keep an eye on in the future.

It was Saturday, and between being the weekend and the good weather the town was more crowded than Barry expected. Thankfully, he opted to do any investigation in his civilian clothes so no one took any more notice of him than anyone else. Being The Flash and getting straight answers from civilians didn’t always go hand in hand. They tended to fall victim to hero worship and sometimes the costume could be more a distraction than a help.

According to what Barry saw on the internet, Amity Park did have a tourist office. It was just a single closet-sized room with a desk, map, and pamphlet stand, but it was brand new and full to bursting with people. Barry stepped in just long enough to grab a map and back out. Talking to someone would be better but the single attendant had her hands full with a group of college kids with hair so colorful it looked like a flock of parrots gathered around the help desk.

Shaking his head, Barry stepped back out on the sidewalk and opened the map. It only showed a very rough diagram of the town. The most prominent landmarks being the many ghost themed businesses, all of whom probably helped produce the map, if Barry had a guess. There were certain areas highlighted that were known for common ghost attacks, though. On the reverse side, there was general information about ghosts and a basic identification list of various ghosts commonly seen around the town.

“Scuse us.” A couple decked out in amateur ghost hunting gear jostled past Barry to get into the tourist office.

“Sorry,” Barry said by reflex and stepped out of the way before giving the couple a brief double-take. Most of their equipment looked like it was made out of tin cans and spare electronics from abandoned kitchen appliances.

“Points for trying, I guess,” Barry muttered. He spotted a bench down the street by the edge of a park and moved to get out of the way of foot traffic.

Settled down in the sun on the bench, Barry pulled out the map again and glanced over the identification guide. The guide identified categories of ghost, powers and strength, and some of the regular spooks to haunt the town.

“The Box Ghost? The Lunch Lady?” Barry snorted, “Do people honestly believe this?” Glancing around the sidewalk and what he could see of the park with the roving groups of ghost-enthusiasts, Barry sighed. “Yeah, I guess some do.”

There was even a handy “spectral threat” rating provided by the local ghost experts to let you know how dangerous a ghost was. Barry glanced over the scores posted next to the picture of each ghost. How the ghost of a fourteen year old kid rated more dangerous than a robot straight out of Mad Max or even a ghost _dragon_ , Barry didn’t know. He glanced over the factors that went into the score. Apparently, it was based on a composite score including number of powers, power level, frequency of sightings, and predictability.

Whoever these “experts” were Barry had his doubts on their judgement. A shriek from one end of the park snapped Barry’s focus up from the paper, but it was just a group of teenagers scaring each other. Barry blinked as he spotted more than one of the kids wearing a tee-shirt with the ghost kid’s face on it.

“Then again, considering the marketing prospects, maybe the experts aren’t as stupid as I thought,” Barry muttered and turned back to the information guide. He flipped the paper back to the map side.

The map showed a combination of tourist attractions, ghost themed businesses, stores, restaurants, and ‘spectral hot zones’. One side of the map had a brief directory for businesses and resources available in the town. At the bottom of the list, there were several phone numbers to call for help with ghost emergencies and questions, including the local ghost experts at Fenton Works. Barry made a mental note to call them later.

“First, let’s check out these spectral hot zones.” Barry checked the map again. The park was one of them but from the look of things, it was too large an area to pinpoint an exact location. The next closest hot zone was a string of stores a couple blocks away. “Well, it’s a nice day for a stroll,” he muttered as he pushed to his feet.

The stroll turned into a three hour walking tour of every major ‘spectral hot zone’ in the downtown area. Barry wandered up roads and down streets, around parks and through alleyways. He had to admit, for a small town, they were doing a good job playing up the ghost gig for tourists. Every person he talked to from the town claimed the ghosts were real and had their own personal stories to go with it. It was not lost on Barry how all of the ‘hot zones’ conveniently had tourist attractions located in the exact same spot, or advertisements for ghost themed…everything.

“Fenton ghost hunting simulator and training program,” Barry read out loud as he paused by a large, garish sign outside the arcade.

“Pretty cool, huh?” a pale, gangly teen asked, sidling up next to Barry. “It’s an official training program, the most popular thing we have here.” He gestured at a line of teenagers and amateur ghost hunters going out the door. “Takes you all the way through from what to do as a bystander to a professional ghost hunter. Though, most people don’t make it that far. It’s really hard.”

“Really,” Barry said, unsure what to do with the sheer amount of skepticism coursing through his veins, “You know, official training usually doesn’t happen in an arcade.” 

“No, it really is official,” the kid insisted, eyes wide and tone earnest. “It uses the best holographic technology for realism. The Fentons installed it themselves and they’re _the_ experts when it comes to ghosts. Yeah, they’re a little crazy in everything else…” He scrunched his nose as he re-thought what he just said. “They’re a little crazy when it comes to ghosts, too, but at least they know what they’re talking about.”

“Right,” Barry sighed. He pinched the bridge of his nose “You know ghosts aren’t real, right?”

The kid looked Barry up and down like _Barry_ was the crazy one. “Of course, they are.”

Barry opened his mouth to reply, paused a moment, then shut it again. He shook his head. “You know what? Forget it. You have fun.” He moved on down the street.

“Just stick around for a few days!” the kid called after him. “You’ll see.”

Barry focused on walking away before he said something he’d regret to a teenager. “Official training program my foot,” he muttered to himself, then sighed. This town was either full of crazies or con-artists, probably both.

Glancing back down at the map, Barry’s gaze fell on the advertisement for Fenton Works, Ghost Hunting Experts. Their name was spread all over town. Stores had signs boasting ghost alarm and defense systems designed by the Fentons. Flyers advertised ghost training programs and classes run by the Fentons. Barry even almost got flattened by a maniac driving a cobbled together RV labeled ‘Fenton Works’. Whoever these Fentons were, they must be raking in dough left and right over this ghost thing.

“Ok, let’s check out these so called ‘experts’,” Barry muttered, finding his position on the map and figuring the best route to the stylized drawing of a ghost denoting the Fenton’s laboratory.

Glancing around, Barry slid into an alleyway and out of sight before shooting off to Fenton Works. The laboratory was on the other side of town and Barry was there in seconds. He slid to a stop in another alleyway at one end of the Fenton’s street. Stepping out onto the sidewalk, Barry frowned. This was a residential neighborhood, not exactly the typical place for an extensive scientific laboratory. Still, it only took one glance to spot Fenton Works.

“You gotta be kidding me,” Barry muttered as he came level with the building.

It was a brick building, similar to the other houses down the row. The Fenton’s house, however, had undergone extensive alterations from the many satellites tacked to the sides and roof, to the neon lights labeling it ‘Fenton Works’, and finally to the flying saucer construction on top of the building.

“There’s no way this place is within code,” Barry said, running a hand over his face. He doubted they had the necessary permits to do any sort of chemical research, either, or any other serious scientific research for that matter.

Barry wasn’t sure what the specific parameters for paranormal research entailed but he did know that zoning laws and environmental restrictions for residential areas made them tricky for research laboratories. It did, however, make for a nice photo-op for the odd ghost enthusiast. In other words, another tourist attraction.

Barry’s stomach growled and he glanced down at his watch. It was well past lunch. “This place is a scam. I’m getting food and heading home.”

Heading out of the residential neighborhood, Barry was trying to decide if he wanted to take the time to go to The Haunted Kitchen, a diner he’d seen downtown, or just swing by the local fast food joint, The Nasty Burger, before leaving. A crash of glass and several panicked screams pulled him to a stop. He backtracked and cut through an alley to the next street over, stopping just inside the alley to assess the situation. Looking at the scene unfolding before him, he couldn’t decide if it was serious or a hoax.

Someone had broken into a small used-electronics store across the street. The front window was smashed and electronics were strewn about the sidewalk, but there was no one around. Well, no one besides the floating green man in a lab coat. The glowing pile of second-hand electronics rose into the air and was coalescing into a robot around the green man right before Barry’s eyes.

A robotic face straight out of a 1950’s science fiction tv show fizzed onto the screen. “YES!” the pile of obsolete tech cried, voice cracking from speakers on its shoulders. “I have regained form in the human realm and now I, Technus, shall use this cutting edge computer equipment to control all of the world’s technology!”

“You gotta be kidding me,” Barry muttered, even as the robot raised its arms. More used equipment flew through the broken window, old desktop computers, box monitors, DVD and VHS players, electronic gadgets Barry didn’t have time to recognize before they fused onto the growing robot.

“C’mon Portals, don’t let me down now!” a voice cried from the other side of a dumpster in Barry’s alley.

Barry stepped around and found a kid in a red beret crouched out of sight and typing furiously on a PDA. Barry opened his mouth to interject but cut off when the robot twitched. The robot jerked, electricity crackling around it.

“Wha-what?” Technus shouted. “N-n-no! I thought I-I fixed this p-p-probleeeem.” The voice stuttered and jolted, winding down as the entire robot lost power and shut off.

“Yes! Another win for Tucker Foley and Portals XL, the worst operating system on the market!” The boy jumped in victory. “And I couldn’t have done it without you, Janette,” he added, hugging his PDA.

“Uh, before you get too intimate with that PDA, I have some questions,” Barry interjected.

The boy gave a high pitched shriek and whirled around to face Barry.

Barry crossed his arms. “You said your name was Tucker, right? Mind explaining what that’s all about?” He waved a hand toward the robot, now standing frozen on the sidewalk. A pigeon flew down and landed on its shoulder.

The boy, Tucker, looked from the robot back to Barry. “Ghosts,” he said like that explained everything.

“Really,” Barry said, completely done with this town’s ghost obsession. “Ghosts run portals XL as their operating system?”

Tucker blinked at him. “Well, that one does…sometimes…if he possesses the wrong computer.”

Barry shook his head. “It’s not a ghost kid.” He looked back at the broken store window and the electronics strewn across the street. “Clearly this is getting out of control. It was one thing when it was just tourist stuff, but using it as a cover to steal is where I draw the line.” He pulled out his cell phone.

“Wait! It really was a ghost!” Tucker said, waving his hands. “Didn’t you see the glowing green guy floating there before the robot formed?”

“Ghosts don’t actually exist,” Barry said, fighting to keep the frustration out of his voice. “Why doesn’t anyone in this town realize that?” He dialed 911 and put the phone to his ear. It only rung for a moment before someone picked up.

“This is 911, what’s your emergency?”

“I’d like to report an attempted robbery,” Barry said looking back toward the robot. He suddenly felt very silly as he continued. “By a large robot made from old electronics. It’s been stopped and there’s no injuries that I can see, but there is damaged property and a mess to clean up.”

“Sir, are you located in Amity Park?” The operator sounded both annoyed and pitying.

“Ah, yes. I can get you the exact location from one of the locals,” Barry said, frowning. He turned to Tucker to get the street name only to find the kid several doors away and walking as fast as he dared without drawing attention. “Hold up kid,” Barry said, jogging to catch up. “What street is this?”

“Shade Street,” Tucker said and tried to sidle away again.

Barry grabbed collar of the boy’s yellow shirt and pulled him back. “We’re on Shade Street.”

“Any ghost related calls need to go through the ghost reporting hotline,” the operator said with a tired huff.

“This is not ghost related,” Barry said in disbelief that he had to explain this to 911, “Ghosts don’t exist.”

“I understand, sir.” Now, the operator was definitely pitying him. “It does not change the fact that there are specific operating procedures when it comes to reporting incidences of a strange or supernatural nature located in and around Amity Park.”

“But-” Barry started and then flailed to find an excuse beyond ‘ghosts don’t exist’.

“You’re from out of town, I understand,” the operator said. “I’m sending a police car down to take a look at the damage and I can transfer you over to the ghost response hotline if you want.”

“No, that’s…fine,” Barry said. Really sending a patrol car was all they’d be doing anyway.

“You have a good day, sir,” the operator said and hung up.

Barry stared down at his phone, then looked over to Tucker, once again shuffling to put distance between himself and Barry.

“Alright, spill.” Barry crossed his arms. “You know something about this. Everybody else ran away, but you knew how to stop that thing.”

“I’m _from_ here!” the kid said, throwing up his hands, “I know how to handle ghost attacks. Each one has a trick and this just happened to be one I could stop!”

Barry looked down at Tucker for a long minute. The kid shifted. There was always the possibility that this kid was involved, but Barry had developed a pretty good sense of people. Tucker seemed sincere and he did stop the robot. “Maybe I should just get Star Labs labs for backup,” Barry muttered, looking down at his phone again. They would laugh at him for wasting their time, but if he asked really nicely they would probably send someone out.

“Star Labs?” Tucker gasped, “ _The_ Star Labs? One of the most cutting edge technology developers in the country? You know them?” Now, instead of moving away he actually stepped closer.

Barry grinned. This might work in his favor. “I have my connections.”

“Wow, Star Labs,” Tucker grinned looking off in the distance. “They’re _huge_ in the portable tech field. Their newest holographic PDA prototype was _amazing_.”

“Good enough to work with the Justice League,” Barry agreed. It was always nice to meet a fellow nerd “They’re pretty busy, but I might be able to convince a couple people to come out and clear up the ghost nonsense.”

Tucker seemed to freeze. “You…you mean, they’d be sending teams and investigating and all of that?”

Barry eyed Tucker. This kid knew more than he was letting on here. “Look, if people are using the cover story of ghosts to commit crimes we can’t let that continue,” Barry said. “Add in people using robots to break into places, not to mention the green guy scaring innocent bystanders. If something serious is going on things could get out of hand. Someone could get hurt.”

“Yeah, but it’s not serious enough for Star Labs to get involved,” Tucker argued, “I mean the town’s managing just fine!”

“Someone has tricked this entire town into thinking it’s haunted. Every single person I’ve talked to today claims they’ve had an encounter with one of these ‘ghosts’ and they believe it.” Barry countered. “It’s gotten so bad it’s interfering with 911 and that could be dangerous. I’m not sure if I would call that ‘managing just fine’.”

Tucker stared at Barry with wide eyes. “Holograms!” the boy cried, voice cracking. He cleared his throat and said at a more sedate level, “I mean, yeah, holograms and basic robotics.”

Barry could sympathize. Puberty hadn’t been kind to him at that age either, but at least now they were getting somewhere. “Holograms?”

Tucker shook his head, a frantic, nervous gesture. “Yeah…Look it just started out as a one-time thing… Another kid I know wanted to scare his girlfriend. And then somebody else did it, too, and then one of the kids on the robotics team thought he could make it more convincing…but sometimes the programing for the robotics gets a little glitchy but they haven’t done anything _illegal,_ you know, beside destroying some stuff, you know, by accident, and there’s really nothing more to it than that and there really _have_ been ghosts spotted all over town. I mean I could show you the town history, it’s packed full of reported sightings.” Tucker was talking so fast Barry was having a hard time keeping up, which was unusual for Barry.

Barry held up his hands to stop the flow of confused explanations. “So what you’re telling me is this entire thing is a hoax gone out of control.”

“Well, that’s a harsh way to describe it,” Tucker said.

“I could also describe it as fraud,” Barry countered, thinking back to all of the businesses claiming ghosts were real and making money off of people believing them. He vaguely wondered if the ongoing sightings were holograms projected around town at the right time with just the right amount of special effects to keep the rumor going.

“Hoax gone out of control sounds pretty accurate to me!” the boy returned, voice cracking again. “But to be fair, there’s no proof ghosts _don’t_ exist and it has created a lot of jobs in town.”

Barry heaved a sigh. He pinched the bridge of his nose, this place was giving him a headache. A noise caught his attention back by the robot. He turned to check and found a number of people picking up the fallen debris and piling it up back in the store’s window. One woman, possibly the owner was directing them with a broom in her hand as she swept up broken glass.

“Our crime rate is really low, too,” Tucker shrugged.

“You ok, Tucker?” the woman called. “The ghost didn’t hurt you, right?” They were still blaming ghosts when there was a robot standing _right_ _there_.

Tucker waved back. “I’m fine! It was just Technus!”

The woman waved back with an understanding nod. Barry’s headache was getting worse, he was hungry, and this was so far out of his jurisdiction it wasn’t even funny. Trying to convince this town that ghosts weren’t real would be a task for an army of psychologists.

Instead, Barry shook his head and dropped the entire matter. “Where’s the best place to eat in town?” 

“Oh, that’s the Nasty Burger,” Tucker said, nerves vanishing now that Barry wasn’t pushing anymore. “It’s over that way, on the other end of the park.” He pointed back toward the town center.

“Thanks,” Barry said, “Stay out of trouble alright?” He turned away and started back down the street toward the park. He paused and turned back. “Hey, good job stopping that thing.”

“Of course!” Tucker preened. “I’m not a techno-geek for nothing.” He turned back toward the electronics mess and jogged over, picking up a few bits of debris as he went.

Barry shook his head and washed his hands of the whole incident. He was getting food and then going home. This place was incurable.

* * *

“That’s right, ghosts!” Flash said.

Batman prided himself on many things, but one of them was his ability to pick up on key words from across the room. Lately, anything to do with the ghosts or the paranormal was on that list. He finished pouring his coffee then turned and settled down at a table in the corner of the Justice League’s breakroom. From there he could observe the whole room including the table currently dominating the conversation.

“Ghost tours aren’t an uncommon tourist attraction, you know,” Black Canary said, sipping her own drink from where she sat across the table from Flash.

“You don’t understand.” Flash gestured a halt to Black Canary’s objections. “It wasn’t just a tour, this was an entire weekend and not at a one-off creepy haunted house. It’s a town, a whole town that gets probably at least half of its revenue from people coming to see the ghosts.”

Superman perked up from across the room, tilting his head to also listen in on the conversation. _About time_ , Batman thought, _what’s the use of super hearing if you don’t pay attention_?

Black Canary hummed, half disbelief, half consideration. “So what did you do?”

Flash shrugged. “I went over there, can’t let a friend waste his very little cash on a scam, can I?” He leaned in, voice rising just a notch. “This entire town is obsessed with ghosts and they actually believe it’s real. Practically everything in this town is themed around ghosts. Everyone there believes their town is literally haunted and that the ghosts attack them on a regular basis!”

So Flash had visited Amity Park. Batman made a mental note of it. He was curious about the town itself, but had avoided visiting if only to keep from drawing too much attention. Clark had described it as a tourist trap with a very niche audience. Still, there was only so much information you could gather from secondhand sources, nothing like observing a place with your own two eyes.

Black Canary sat back, tilting her head. “Is it?”

“Of course it isn’t!” Flash cried, throwing his hands in the air. “I can’t believe you would even suggest that! It’s a _scam_! Well,” he amended, “it’s a scam in the same way that every tourist trap is in part a scam, but edging a little closer to the scam side of things than most tourist traps.”

“So did you prove it was a scam?” Black Canary asked, she crossed her arms in front of her. “Because you know there’s no way to prove ghosts _don’t_ exist.”

“Actually, I did,” Flash preened. “While I was getting ready to find a place to eat I came across a robot attacking a second-hand electronics store.”

“Hate to break it to you, Flash,” Green Arrow said, “But robots and ghosts are two different things.”

“You know that and I know that, but these people apparently don’t,” Flash agreed, gesturing at Green Arrow and then himself. “They were convinced it was a ghost. I called 911 and even _they_ seemed to think it was ghosts, tried to redirect me to a ghost hotline, probably because of all the false alarms they get. There was, however, a kid that stopped the robot. The thing was running Portals XL.”

“That garbage operating system?” Green Arrow scrunched his nose. “It’s full of holes.”

“Which is probably why the kid managed to shut the thing down with nothing more than a PDA.” Flash managed to turn his eye roll into a full-body movement. “And even then, the kid _still_ said it was ghosts, looked at me like _I_ was the ridiculous one. At least, I managed to get him to spill on how this thing got started.”

“Oh?” Black Canary cocked her head.

“One of the high school students used holograms to play a prank on his girlfriend. Some other kids took it as a challenge to one up him and make them scarier and one of _them_ was a member of the robotics team. I guess the town already had a bunch of ghost stories associated with it. One thing led to another and voila.” Flash took a gulp of coffee leaning back in his seat. “You know the real give away, though? The local ‘ghost experts’,” he made sure to use air quotes, “apparently also dabble in holographic technology. They set up a holographic training program at the local arcade. Who runs a legitimate training program out of a video arcade?”

Batman sipped from his own black coffee. As far as cover stories went, it wasn’t a bad one. It could conceivably even have a little bit of truth to it. Certainly, it would convince hardcore skeptics. Batman thought back to Phantom’s desperation to keep the ghosts in town and out of the news. If the boy was smart, he’d have a backup plan to explain away anything that leaked to the outside world.

“I don’t know,” Green Arrow pushed his chair back on two legs. “I’ve met some pretty good shots that got their start in arcades. You’re probably right, though. It doesn’t take much to connect the dots between holograms and fake ghost sightings. Doesn’t seem like it’d be worth the trouble, though. I mean how much can you really make from a scam like that?”

“Oh you’d be surprised,” Flash nodded. “The Fentons had advertisements all over that place, ghost defense systems, training, classes, not to mention whatever they’re getting from that game they set up in the arcade. Of course, the rest of the town is cashing in, too, with all the tourists.”

“Fenton?” Black Canary asked. She frowned. “I know that name. I was reviewing psychology essays for a scholarship program and one of the entries was by a girl with that name. Actually…now that I think about it, her essay was on ‘ghost envy’. At the time, I thought she was talking metaphorically, not literal ghosts, but she might have been talking about actual ghosts…” She shrugged. “Oh well, it was still extremely well written and there’s always a place for some exploratory psychology out there.”

Batman mentally added Black Canary onto the list of people with some exposure to the phenomenon happening in Amity. The list was already too long.

“Ghosts. Don’t. Exist.” Flash repeated, arms crossed over his chest. “Humoring people who think they do only encourages them.”

Green Arrow snorted. “They’re just using the local legends to boost the town’s income a bit. It happens all the time. Either way, this place sounds like a trip, I have to visit. What’s the name of this town?”

Batman wished the Flash would stop talking. Not everyone in the League was as determined a skeptic as he was. The door slid open and Shazam walked into the breakroom.

“Amity Park,” Flash said. “The town’s name is Amity Park. If you search for it with the term ghost or anything similar, you’ll find it.”

Panic flickered across Shazam’s face as soon as he heard the town’s name. He turned on his heel and walked right back out. Batman sighed and silently added Shazam to the growing list of people that likely knew about Amity Park’s ghosts. This was getting out of hand.

“If you do go there, try the local fast food place, Nasty Burger. They’re actually pretty good despite their name.” Flash stood from the table followed closely by Black Canary and Green Arrow. “But don’t try to reason with anyone there. They’ll just look at you like you’re crazy.” In a moment, they were out the door.

Batman downed the rest of his coffee and stood. He moved to Superman’s table. Superman looked up at him, lifting one eyebrow. Batman hitched his head toward the door before heading out of the breakroom, Superman following behind. Batman found an empty office room and stepped inside.

“Well?” Batman asked, when Superman was through the door and had locked it behind him.

Superman shrugged. “I don’t know what Flash saw, but that wasn’t a hologram that shook my hand or cracked the pavement during the fight, and it wasn’t high school robotics, either.”

“And it wasn’t a hologram that took over my warehouse,” Batman agreed with a nod. “It might work for a cursory explanation for what’s happening in Amity Park, but it doesn’t explain half of the events that have been going on in that town for the past year.”

“This isn’t going to stay quiet for long,” Superman said, leaning against the desk. “Flash is one thing. He’s determined to find a scientific explanation and will only consider the supernatural if there’s no other option. Even then he’s still skeptical. But if he keeps complaining the way he just did? Others in the league aren’t so close minded. I know you want to try and protect this kid, but-”

“I know,” Batman said, holding up a hand to stop Superman. “Did you see Shazam?”

“You mean how he hightailed it out of the breakroom the minute he heard the name of the town?” Superman snorted. “I wonder when he was in Amity Park, must have been traumatic.”

“As long as he keeps his mouth shut,” Batman grumbled, crossing his arms.

“What are you going to do?” Superman asked after a beat of silence.

Batman took a breath. It was a delicate situation between the ghosts, the GIW, the League, the town, and a kid in over his head. Batman just didn’t know enough about Danny Phantom’s character to predict what he would do if pressed. Panic could make a person do stupid things. “I think I need to take a closer look before I make any definite plans.”

“Well make it quick,” Superman said, pushing off the desk and unlocking the door. “Time’s running out.”

“Don’t remind me,” Batman grumbled following Superman out the door then heading to the Zeta tube. He needed to get back to the Batcave. He had plans to make.

**::The End::**

**Author's Note:**

> * Frederick Bligh Bond (1864-1945) was an English architect, illustrator, archaeologist, and a paranormalist. He claim spirits directed him where to excavate on the Glastonbury Abbey excavations.
> 
> * Harry Price (1881-1948) was a British psychic researcher known for debunking fraudulent psychics. He’s best remembered for his investigation of the supposed haunting of Borley Rectory.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed it! Thanks for reading!


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